


The Locker Letters

by TheAsexualScorpio



Series: ASOIAF Ficlets [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brienne is the Best, F/M, Implied Bullying, Implied Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Jon Snow - Freeform, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Margaery Tyrell/Joffrey Baratheon - Freeform, Pre-Relationship, Secret Admirer, brienne of tarth - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 20:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14244714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualScorpio/pseuds/TheAsexualScorpio
Summary: Sansa Stark has been finding love notes in her locker for almost two weeks. When she realizes they aren't part of a prank by Joffrey and Margaery, she tries to figure out who IS sending them.~~~Part of "Sarah's Lunchbreak Ficlets" for the prompt "Investigating."





	The Locker Letters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alittlestardustcaught](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlestardustcaught/gifts).



> There's a mystery goin' on, and Sansa's gonna solve it. 
> 
> For the lovely alittlestardustcaught who was supposed to get a MUCH BIGGER fic a year ago, but I hope you still like this one.

When Sansa got home from school, the first thing she did was race to her room and lock the door behind her. The next thing she did was clear off her desk and carefully lay nine pieces of paper on it. Smoothing out the creases and wrinkles in the papers, Sansa arranged them in chronological order and looked over them with new eyes, the words “Not Margaery” and “Not Joffrey” echoing through her mind. She dropped into her desk chair, unable to stop the grin from taking over her face. For two weeks, she was afraid these letters had been a setup for some new humiliation from Joffrey and Margaery. She’d been certain Margaery was the one writing the notes, playing a long game when Joffrey wouldn’t have been able to wait more than two or three days.

Until today.

 _Today_ , Brienne had taken a peek at Margaery’s algebra notes and informed Sansa that the handwriting didn’t match the notes. That meant there was only one explanation. The notes were real. Someone was writing Sansa Stark...love notes. Sansa looked down at the notes again and started reading.

 

 _Rytsas, Sansa_.

 

 _You have the bluest eyes. You distract me_.

 

_Your hair actually glows when the light hits it. Did you know that?_

 

_You are amazingly smart. I know I couldn't have handled AP History as a sophomore. Hells, I can barely handle it now._

 

_You are so beautiful. Sometimes when I look at you, I forget to breathe._

 

_Your hair looks so soft. I want to run my fingers through it._

 

_I dreamed about you last night. I could actually feel you lying next to me, your mouth on me. You kissed me a lot in my dream, my mouth and nose and cheeks. Even my eyes, like you were trying to wake me up. But when I opened my eyes, you were gone._

 

_I love listening to you talk. You've got this voice, carriad, very low and sweet and just a little bit raspy. It sends shivers down my spine. I imagine you could make me come just by talking._

 

_I had another dream about you last night. Gods, I want to touch you._

 

Sansa let out a shaky breath and slumped against the back of her chair. For the first time, she allowed herself to _revel_ in the feelings these letters stirred up in her, heated and breathless, hopeful and undeniably sweet. She didn’t think she had it in her to feel this way anymore, not after everything Joffrey had done, and yet...she did. She was at least half in love already, and if she didn’t figure out who was writing to her, she might actually explode.

She straightened and forced herself to look at the letters with critical eyes. They were written in black ink, and the writing itself was thin and spidery cursive. The lines were strong and dark, and the letters were cramped so close together that sometimes the loops on letters like lowercase L’s and H’s were closed. Sansa was certain she’d seen this handwriting before, but she couldn’t remember where, no matter how she wracked her brains.

The only people she hung out with anymore were her family and three friends. Obviously no one in her family would be aroused by the sound of her voice, and she saw Randa and Brienne’s handwriting often enough to know that they couldn't have written the letters. Mya simply didn't strike her as the secret admirer kind. There _had_ to be something, some kind of hint. Her eyes caught on the fourth note, the one that called her smart: _I know I couldn't have handled AP History as a sophomore. Hells, I can barely handle it now._ Her secret admirer was in her AP History class! They’re also older, but that didn’t narrow it down much. She and Brienne were the only sophomores in the class. Everyone else was an upperclassman, four juniors and six seniors. Five were boys, and five were girls.

Sansa looked over at the notes again. She didn’t think the letters were written by a girl. True, she saw girls write in cursive more than boys, but their cursive was always more...expressive than this, lots of loops and flourishes at the ends of sentences or paragraphs. There wasn't any of that here. Her eyes kept going back to the first and eighth notes. _Rhytsas_ was Valyrian for “Hello,” but what did _carriad_ mean? She dug her phone out of her purse and looked it up. Google Translate seemed to take ages, but when the word finally came up, Sansa fell back against the chair again.

 _Carriad_ meant “my darling” in Common Tongue. The knowledge glowed, soft and enticing, in Sansa’s chest. It’s beautiful, in a sweet, old-fashioned way. Her secret admirer was a romantic and a gentleman. Not _too_ much of a gentleman, she amends, looking back at the note that had talked about her voice, but still incredibly sweet. And the word itself...Sansa squirmed at the memory of the pronunciation link. It sounded like purring, low and soft with rolling r’s she could _feel_ , like fingertips trailing down her spine.

Her secret admirer _had_ to be fluent in Valyrian. As far as Sansa knew, Valyrian classes at school only covered grammar and vocabulary for everyday objects. She couldn’t imagine any classes teaching endearments, so that meant her secret admirer knew more than the basics. Her secret admirer spoke Valyrian, was older than her, and was in her AP History class. There was only one person Sansa knew of who fit that description. Daenerys Targaryen. Sansa frowned. Daenerys Targaryen? No. That couldn’t possibly be right. Daenerys had been dating Khal Drogo since middle school, but who else—

The memory hit her like a thunderbolt. Three or four years ago, back when she was still in middle school, Robb had been taking Intro Valyrian. One day she’d come downstairs and found Jon Snow talking circles around her older brother, the quick syllables flying off his tongue with an ease Sansa had never heard any other time he spoke. In the face of her brother’s outrage, Jon had sheepishly admitted that his father’s family spoke Valyrian.

Sansa’s mouth dropped open. JON SNOW?!

**Author's Note:**

> Underage warning in the tags refers to the eighth letter, which is something sexual directed to a 15-16 year old high school sophomore Sansa by a 17-18 year old senior Jon.


End file.
